


Alcohol, a Dominatrix and a detective...what could possibly go wrong?

by AndySkull



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndySkull/pseuds/AndySkull
Summary: Drunk Adlock!, where Irene is all cute and silly towards Sherlock. They solve a case that Sherlock initially doesn’t want to, but at the end is the best case he has ever solve because he is so drunk. Mary and John Included.





	1. The Next morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This only serves as an introduction to the story. Later, this scene will wrap up everything perfectly.

The morning is fresh but warm and John Watson wakes up on Sherlock’s couch, across from him, Mary sleeps wrapped in a blanket. John smiles at the view and gets up slowly. Heading for the kitchen, he contemplates the living room for a bit. Four bottles of wine and a bottle of Absinthe lies on the floor, he smiles to himself and looks at the bedroom door, it’s closed, he smiles even wider. On the kitchen he busies himself preparing tea for four. He searches on his pocket for his phone, when he finds it, the phone is out of power, dead; he plugs it into a charger he finds on the counter and finishes a cup of tea for him. Mary is still asleep.

Once he finishes his tea and settles the empty cup on the table, he picks up his phone and turns it on.

“Shit!” He spites in panic. His exclamation drags Mary out of her slumber and she complains still half sleep. Ignoring Mary’s complains, John rushes to the bedroom door and knocks.

“Sherlock! Wake up mate! Brunch with your parents, remember? You are going to be late…” No response came from inside. He hesitates a bit, but eventually closes his eyes and opens the door. “Sherlock-” He stops, the room is empty. “Where- I…. She-” The sound of steps climbing the stairs makes John panic, even more, he closes the bedroom door and rushes to the living room. Just in time to face a very obfuscated Mycroft.

“Good morning doctor Watson, please spare me the details of last night, I only want to finish with this as soon as possible… where… where is my brother?” Mycroft’s sight inspects the room uneasily.

“Hi, Mycroft…. Um… Sherlock, well… he is… he is…” With an annoying look, Mycroft tries to advance through the corridor to Sherlock’s room but John stops him. “Sherlock is not in his room.” John spats closing his eyes and swallowing hard.

“Then… where is he?” Asks Mary, now fully awake.

With a mixture of anger and disappointment, Mycroft takes his phone to call his little brother. “Phone’s off,” He says looking at it surprised. “Doctor Watson if I have to remind you: We have brunch with our parent in half an hour. Where. Is. My. Brother?” No one answers. John and Mary look at each other speechless. The tension grows and Mycroft is about to bark an order when John’s phone rings. He runs to pick up the call.

“Sherlock? Where are you? Are you ok?” He listens to the other side of the line. “You are where!? How!? …yeah, ok….ok fine.” He hangs up. “It was Sherlock…. He um… He is fine, he is with Ms Adler who is also fine… and they were calling from a public phone… on Sussex. He gave me the public phone’s serial number and… he says you can send a vehicle to pick them up whenever you want… oh! And they won’t make it up to brunch so… please reschedule for dinner.” Informs John with a blank expression.

“Doctor, Ms Watson,” Begins Mycroft trying to maintain his composure. “What exactly happened last night?”


	2. A Supporting Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real beginning of the story

“This is very  _ nice _ of you. Supporting your friend on this matter.” Commented Mary casually.

“Well, Sherlock is introducing his first girlfriend to his parents, in a way of a formal relationship, after the mess with Eurus...what really troubles me, is the  _ domestic _ air of tonight. It’s just… a gathering, you, me, Sherlock and his girlfriend I mean…”

“Her name is Irene, or Ms Adler if you still feel uncomfortable. It might seem domestic but, I’m sure Sherlock is as nervous as you think, this is also a call for help from him. To ease his anxiety and insecurities. You are a very good friend,” Mary smiled broadly at him.

“And you, Ms Watson,” said John kissing her, “are a very good wife.” Mary blushed slightly and handed him a bottle of wine. 

“Shall we then?”

The popping noise of the bottle being uncorked echoed on the small flat. The four glasses were poured and the group made the first toast of the night, sponsored by Mary.

“Cheers for you guys, finally officializing your relationship; at the eyes of society and your parents. Congratulations!” 

“Thank you, very much Mary… I…” After a moment of hesitation and seeing Sherlock wouldn’t find the missing words, Irene held his hand and gave him a quick look before facing the rest of the group.

“Thank you, Mary. I’m sure it’ll be an interesting brunch.” 

Everyone sipped from their glasses and the small talk and laughs began. The conversation went from trivial thing like weather to more serious matters, like living together or the future of Irene and Sherlock’s relationship. 

The conversation was nice and smooth until the first bottle was empty. Naturally, a second one that Irene has purchased early, was uncorked. With this second bottle, the conversation led to storytelling. Funny anecdotes of past cases involving Sherlock and/or John, others about Mary and John and finally about Irene and Sherlock during their time abroad dismantling Moriarty’s network. The second bottle was dried up and Irene revealed a souvenir she had bought from France.

“ _La fée verte,_ better known as  Absinthe,” Sherlock groaned at her words which drawn curious looks from John and Mary. “Sherlock’s not a fan. He made a scandal on a pub in Montmartre after the third shot. We ended up-”

“I think they don’t need more intel than that, Woman.” Sherlock interrupted.

“No, no! Go on, please! I want to hear it.” John Insisted. An argument began, everyone was a bit altered by the wine, so the arguing soon shifted to laughs, dares and then a challenge.

“Let’s play a game!” Irene suggested cheerfully.

“Not Cluedo!” Yelled John. Owning a strange look from the ladies.

“No, I was thinking something more like… Never have I ever…” Irene looked suggestively at the group, waiting for an approval sign. Everyone, except Sherlock, agreed; So the game began.

“Remind me the rules, please.” Asked Sherlock once they were all sitting around the kitchen table with a shot glass filled with Absinthe and the bottle in the middle on the table.

“I make a statement that begins with <Never have I ever…> those who have done it, must drink the shot, those who haven’t, don’t do anything. Let’s make a try for both situations.” Irene meditated for a few seconds and a mischievous smile appeared on her face when she spoke. “Never have I ever...had sex with someone from the same gender.” The three other players were shocked with the question for a moment, Mary eventually laughed. “As you three are all boring heterosexual people, you don’t drink; But as I’m not…” Irene continued. 

“Excuse- what?” Mary stuttered, but Irene had already hurried the Absinthe shot down her throat, ignoring Mary’s confusion. 

“Now, let’s try the second option. I say… Never have I ever… met Sherlock’s parents.” Everyone nodded and took their shots, except Irene. “Now the game has been explained, shall we begin?”

The first three rounds were easy and silly statements, just to be sure the game was clear for all the players. From the fourth until the eighth round, the questions became tricky, with the sole objective that the crew drink as much as possible. When they reached the tenth round, the statements were confusing, ambiguous and hard to understand.

“I am… I am…” Mary struggled with the words as her world spinned around. “I’m hungry.” The party looked at Mary with distant, distracted, unfocused eyes. 

“So am I,” replied Irene. “Let’s finish the bottle and… we’ll get something to eat. Yeah?” For everyone’s surprise, the bottle had only enough spirit left for the four shots. John served the remaining liquor and let the bottle rolled empty to the living room floor. The crew contemplated largely the shot glasses in front of them. The green substance seemed to make fun of them and their questionable judgment at that moment. Their faces looked weary, their eyes soused, some hiccups were heard and everyone was staggering, some more and other less, on their chairs.

“I think that…”John began hesitantly. “As this is all that if left… let’s wrap up with a toast. I feel I speak for everyone when I say…. We are all a bit tired of gamesssh.” Everyone nodded faintly. He took a moment to re-order his thoughts. “So now I toast for… you fellows. Sherlock, my… my bwest friend and… bestmwan. Yep! And uh…” He struggled to maintain his focus. “And uh, Irene, yeah. You two look like… a very nice couple. Also, Sherlock looks happier when you are around.” Irene leaned on Sherlock’s shoulder, holding his hand, she entwined their fingers and sighed relaxed. “So, a toast for you two! For many good, happy years and….uh adventures!.” Everyone hurried that last shot down their throats. 

“Ok! I’m still starving!” Said Mary standing up and stuttering on the process. “Anyone for…Food?”

Taking their coats, the drunk crew made their way downstairs and onto the street.


	3. The Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our drunk party finds a "Missing person" poster. Which will lead them on a new direction on the evening.

“Look at those two,” Said Mary to John. They were inside a Chinese takeout waiting for their order. Outside, leaned on a lamppost was Sherlock holding Irene’s hand. They were giggling, smiling and exchanging playful kisses. “They are so in love.”

“They are drunk,” Stated John.

“And so? They are so In love. Neither would acknowledge if sober.”

“You are drunk too.”

“Yes, I am,” Mary laughed. “I am also in love...”

“So am I.”

“Drunk? Or in love?”

“Both!” John laughed and kissed Mary.

* * *

 

“Or what?” Asked Irene as Sherlock caught her in his arms, making her giggle. Sherlock lift her up and Irene placed her hands on the sides of his face, tenderly. She looked deeply into his eyes and kissed him long and tender as her hands traveled to his hair and played with his curls.

“Cool it down you two, lovebirds,” mocked John. “We have some dumplings and… different kinds of fry rolls…” Sherlock released Irene and both joined John to take a piece of their likeness.

“What is this,” Mary suddenly asked pointing at a wanted poster on the lamppost. “A kid’s got missing…” The group gathered indifferent around Mary. “The date is..today… this happened this morning. Poor mother asks for help, she has no money to pay a private detective.” All eyes shifted to Sherlock after Mary’s words.

“She should go to the police then.” He said thoughtlessly. A rain of complains and reproaches poured on Sherlock, who, drunk as he was, couldn't defend himself. Still, he stood in his position not listening to the rest of the party, chewing on his spring roll like nothing was happening around him.

Stealthy, Irene slipped her hand into his. On her tiptoes, she leaned close to his ear and whispered. “Come on Sherlock, impress a girl?”

“Sure,” he answered. He smiled at her and looked like falling into a trance. “Let’s visit the place...where… the kid- he...uh… got missing.” He began to walk, the rest followed and quietly cherished Irene for convincing the detective.

They walked three blocks in complete silence but with big grins on their faces. Their eyes were susceptible to wander between the lights projected by pubs, stores, and advertisements.

“Walking feels like...floating. And the lights look so amazing.” Said Mary in a dazed.

“It’s the Absinthe,” answered Irene laughing. “It does silly but pleasant illusions.”

“As long as you still conscious…” mumbled Sherlock under his breath.

“Where are we going?” Asked John suddenly. The question made Sherlock stop on the spot, the rest of the party then crashed into his back and fell.

“We are clearly surveilling the area where the kid went missing. What are you doing? It’s not time for a rest, get up!”

“We’ve passed this part already, we’re going in circles!” Complained John standing up and helping Mary to do the same. Sherlock copied his friend’s manners and helped Irene to her feets. He was rewarded with a soft kiss on his lips and a shy gaze from Irene. Dazzled they stared at each other for a long time.

“Maybe we should split,” suggested John.

“No!” Yelled the other three. “We’re far too drunk, we have to stick together.”

“Come on guys, girls, we’re not that drunk.”

“Doctor Watson, we can’t even walk straight like sober people. Thou you might have missed that fact cause Absinthe is messing with our heads. Still,” continued Irene, “I believe you are the most sober of us four. Mary and I are women, and Sherlock can’t handle his alcohol.”

“That means that...what? I’m the designated driver?”

“Oooh, yes you are darling!” said Mary hugging him and hiding her face in his neck.

“Where’s my- uh…. Sherlock?”

“Quite the gibberish and stay put, people!” He yelled from the next corner before disappearing on an alley. Everyone followed. When Irene finally caught him after overtaking Mary and John, she quickly grabbed his arm, entwining fingers and leaning softly on his arm.

“Don’t do that,” she said softly. “Don’t leave me behind like that. I don’t like it.” Sherlock released his arm and instead wrapped around Irene’s shoulder, dragging her close to him on a very intimate move.

“That’s the way I do stuff,” He began with a hushed tone. “But rest assured I will never just... _leave you_ behind I was watching you from afar, making sure you were ok, I’m always vigilant of you, you know that.” He finished with a soft smile that Irene reciprocated. Their gazes locked and their lips were mere inches apart.

“Seriously guys? I have to interrupt your make-out sessions every, what... Five minutes?”

“John, leave them alone.”

“No! A bit of decency!”

“You are a real pain in the arse sometimes. Has Sherlock ever told you that?”

“Wha-? No! I’m not- Sherlock?”

“Or is it because you’re jealous?” said Irene half smirking, half snorting.

“What!?”

“She’s teasing you, John, just stop.” Said Mary, at which Sherlock nodded. John was speechless and the group began to move again. He stayed behind and noticed, as Irene had said, none of them was walking straight, they were staggering from one side to another, they were notoriously drunk.

They walked for a while, unsteady, between buildings, shops, and streets. Getting carried away like petals on a stream. Taking a heavy sigh, Sherlock leaned on a wall, the group gathered around him.

“Can you hear that song? I so Love it!” Indeed was a song playing, loud. Just a few meters away, on a parking lot, a group between twenty or more gypsies were partying.

“It does bring memories from Montenegro,” said Irene, speaking from a place far from where they were at. The statement made John and Mary exchange an uncertain look.

“We met on Montenegro once,” Irene began to explain. “There was this jam with some Gypsies, Sherlock and I ended up attending a Gypsy wedding.”

“Remind me that story that hag told you ‘bout stolen babies…” The Watsons fell into shock with Sherlock’s question.

“It’s nothing,” Irene reassured them. “It’s just a silly… misunderstanding… more like old legend. That gypsies steal babies and then eat them on profane rituals. All fake, for sure.” Mary and John calmed down only a bit.

“Well then, time for a plan!” Said Sherlock with a slurred voice.

“A plan for what?” The group asked at the same time, utterly confused.

“Well, what are we here for!? To rescue the child! The- th- The kid!” Sherlock stuttered.

“You found him?”

“You know where he is?”

“ ‘course I know,” he scoffed. “For a while actually. Now, ideas? someone?”


	4. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Were Sherlock and the gang goes to the rescue!

“Wait! How did you know? Where is he?”

“Too long to explain. He is hidden on that white pickup truck with the wringed- sorry, winged skull on the side, that one over there.” He pointed.

“It’s a really cute skull.” The girls agreed.

“Yeah, it is-”

“But how!” John interrupted.

“I dunno John, it’s just somehow cute, I mean-”

“Not the skull Sherlock! The boy, how did you know!”

“Let’s first calm down, right?” Irene suggested. “Now, Sherlock…?”

“There’s no time…! To explain, John. It will take time and we got to rescue this human child. So, let’s just, do the thing,” He detached from the wall and began to walk carelessly to the parking lot, and the party that was taking place there.

“No! Wait! First the plan,” rushed Mary, stopping Sherlock.

“Ups, yes. You got to follow up. You two Watsons stay behind, Irene and I go into the party, she distracts them, I go to the truck, set the kid free, send him this way to you and then we escape. All nice, clean, neat, let’s go.”

“We should call the police.”

“No! No police. We are operating drunk, and police won’t help, they are gypsies they have...other rules and… and...“

“Bureaucracy”

“Yes, yes, also that, bureaucry- bureoc- beroc… whatever, that what she said. Let’s go.”

It was Mary who interrupted first, then John insisted on calling the police, again, then Sherlock insisted on his plan, Irene supported Sherlock and the situation turned into an argument. A few minutes later, four drunks were arguing on the side of a parking lot, mumbling with unsteady voices and twisted logic due to their drunk state. 

The quarrel stopped abruptly when the characteristic lights from a police car flashed at the other side of the parking lot. The music stopped, two policeman came down the car and spat some rough words to the gypsies, they talked back, complained. The policeman asked for reinforcements, the gypsies attacked, screamed, tried to push them away and soon, a big and confusing struggle began. Fists and quicks from the gypsies, teaser, and batons from the policeman.

“Now we move,” said Sherlock heading to the truck. The fight was taking place a few meters from their target, but the gypsy's attention was on the struggle and the police, thus leaving behind their vehicles. 

As the plan established, Irene and Sherlock sneak between the vehicles until they reached the specific one. Politely, Sherlock knocked at the window.

“Hey there boy, rescuing party here.” A small head peeped out on the darkness inside the truck.

“Are you here to help me? I want to go home. I'm scared.”

“Yes, we’re here to help. Would you please kindly open the door?”

“Dear…” Irene chuckled softly resting her hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t,” said the boy. “The lock is messed up and it only opens from outside…”

“I was going to say that...”

“Why else would I be still in here! You are the worst rescuing party!”

“Fine! That’s it then! Have fun being eaten by gypsies!” Sherlock turned around and went back from where he came. Irene stayed beside the pickup truck.

“Noo! Wait! I’m sorry!”

“You want to be rescued or what?”

“Yes, I do! It’s just I’m so nervous and scare and- and- and-” The boy burst into tears. Irene rolled her eyes and was about to open the door when Sherlock came back rushing, John and Mary behind. She gave them a curious look. 

“The quarrel is out of control. Police blocked all exits of the parking lot.” Sherlock began.

“Basically we are trapped here.” John continued.

“No way to escape on foot.” Mary finished.

Irene didn’t have the time to blink or process the information by the time Sherlock opened the driver’s door and entered. “All aboard now!”

No one questioned his action, in a blink of an eye, the four members of the rescuing party and the lost boy were inside a gypsy pick up truck. Outside, the fight was getting louder and bigger, gaining more fighters from both sides. Messing with the cables under the wheel, Sherlock started the engine.

“Seat belts. Please. Safety first.”

“Y’all smell funny” 

“It’s called wormwood” Informed Irene.

“What is wormwood?”

“The reason any of us should be driving,” Mary added. 

“Maybe I should-” Tried John. 

“Off we go!” Sherlock pressed the throttle and the vehicle moved forward.


	5. The daring escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a plan is not well planned, a daring escape is mandatory

The quarrel got out of control quickly. All gypsies were gathered at the center of the parking lot mixed with a few policemen. A couple of police cars arrived with reinforcement that quickly joined the fight. Fists and kicks came and went from all different directions, regardless of who were directed to. 

The sound of an engine starting alerted one of the policemen, who looked away from the fight to the source of the noise. He opened his mouth to alert his companions but was knocked unconscious with a well-placed fist at his jaw by a gypsie.

“Someone’s robbing my truck! Emir, Mikel, with me!” Three gypsies made their way out of the quarrel and jumped into a truck, quickly following the first. 

“To units near the area, two trucks escaped from the scene. Send a patrol after them.” Communicated another policeman through his radio before he shot his taser gun to a thug.

The tires left a dark mark in the pavement and a trace of smoke at the sudden turn of direction. Leading between narrow streets, another turn made the truck side scratch against a wall.

“I feel sick…” Mary mumbled leaning against the window.

“Don’t throw up in here”

“Where are we going?”

“Perhaps I should drive.”

“Shut up, John!”

“I wanna go home!”

“Are those… Is that a police car… following us?”

“That’s… those are gypsies… and the police! Sherlock, what tha f-”

“Ah ah, language, John.”

“Sthop!”  Turning into a corner, Sherlock stopped the car abruptly. Mary opened the door and threw up on the spot. Luckily, they’ve stopped next to a lonely alley.

“Ye know how ta get home, kiddo?”

“I’m not talking to you! You are the worst rescuer ever!” Complained the boy at Sherlock’s question, pouting and looking away from him. Sherlock looked at Irene confused.

“Heya boy,” She began softly. “Come on, tell us. D’you remember how ta get home?” The boy nodded.

“Is that way.” He pointed.

“Good! John, you and Mary take the boy to his mowther.”

“What? What about you?”

“Gypsies and police are after us, we’ll distract them and… all that.”

“We will?” Asked Irene incredulously.

“Pfff, totally! Like that time in Roma.” Irene released an exclamation in awe like she was replaying a memory.

“Why don’t we just give the kid to the police?”

“No Police!” Everyone yelled at John.

“Get down now! We’ll distract them. Get tha boy safe home.”

Quickly, Mary and John, taking the boy under their protection, moved away from the car as Sherlock started the engine again.

“How will you distract them?” John had barely finished his question when the truck drove by gypsies appeared on the alley.

“Like this!” Sherlock sank the pedal and the car backed up impacting the gypsies. Before they could recover from the surprise crush, Sherlock moved fast, forward and away. By the time the gypsies had recovered and began their chase again, John, with Mary and the kid had run away from the scene. 

 

“You guys all right?” Mary looked for support on a near wall. 

“I’m fine,” answered John taking back his breath.

“What about you, little one?” Said Mary kneeling next to him. “Are you scared?” The boy nodded and quickly jumped into Mary’s embrace, hiding his face on her shoulder.

“I just want to go home. I want my mom.”

“Don’t you worry, sweety. We’ll take you there. What’s your name?”

“Tom”

“Very well, Tom. You know the way home?” The boy nodded. He and Mary got on their feet, the three of them held hands and walked on. 

 

The door opened and the woman who appeared widened her eyes at the sight of her son.

“Tom!” She picked him up and held him in her arms. “My boy, oh my boy. You are home.” She covered him with kisses and praises.

“Mom! I was so scared!”

“I know baby, I know. You must have been so brave. You…” she said looking at the couple at the entrance. “You found him. Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart.” She placed the boy down and moved to greet Mary and John.

“I… thank you!! Come inside, please! Y- you got to tell me everything! I.. I can´t pay you, but… I...I…”

“Ma’am, please…”John began. “We are _so, very tired_. Can we skip this for tonight and save the explanations for tomorrow?

“Oh, yes, yes, sure! Oh, I didn’t realize how late…. I… Let me get you both a cab, It’s the least I can do.”

Ten minutes later John and Mary were on their way to Baker Street, leaving a promise to Tom’s mother to come to visit the next day for a proper explanation. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the safety of the flat.

“Guy hasn’t made it back yet….”

“It’s Sherlock and Irene, Mary. They are surely perfectly fine. Let’s just...chill and wait for them.” Fifteen minutes later they were deeply asleep. 

A few hours later, they finish telling this story to Mycroft, who blinks bewildered at the tale. 

“So...we split and...we don’t know what happened to them…” Finished John. Mycroft sights heavily with his eyes shut. John opens his mouth to speak, but Mycroft stops him with a gesture with his hand.

“Doctor, Mary, you can go back to your house. I’ll take care of everything here.” He states with a fake but pleasant smile.

“Oh, well….we uh-”

“You crazy?” Mary interrupts. “We stay! We want to know what happened!” She shifts on the couch and wraps comfortably on the blanket. A broad smile on her face.


	6. Meanwhile, on the other side...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the half of this tangled story! Now is Sherlock and Irene's turn to tell the rest of the story.

“Heyyyy, wake up,” The lad says softly. “Wakey wakey friends…” No one answers him. “Time to wake up,” he tries again, this time, shaking the man’s shoulder softly. A deep breath comes from the sleeping target and with lazy eyes, he greets the young lad.

“Hey…. hey uhm….”

“Steven, Steve, your travel pal, remember? Did you sleep well, mate?” He asked eagerly.

“Mhm, yeah, yes… I...uhm” The woman sleeping on his chest wakes up and she is slowly coming back to her senses.

“Sorry to wake you up on this…. Abrupt and un-politely form… but we will continue our journey. Will you guys come with us to the west?”

“Uhm...Uh… No, no, we uh… We’ll rest here for a while….”

“Yes, totally. I understand. You guys had been awesome pals on this short journey. My best wishes to you, my Lady.” The woman is now fully awake and sits next to the boys. The young lad takes her hand and kisses it softly. “And for you, fine gentlemen.” They shake hands. The lad stands up, bow and leaves.

The couple is alone now, they look at each other briefly and then to the horizon, to the sea that extends in front of them, sighing heavily.

“Hungover?”

“Bloody headache.”

“What exactly,” She begins slowly. “Happened last night?”

“There was absinthe...uhm, then something outside…”

“Spring-roll! Chinese take-over”

“And then the streets and something Mary said…”

“Oh! The lost boy!”

“What a good case was that.” He says as a pleasant smile appears on his face. While his gaze lingers on the horizon, Irene moves her head in circles, holding a hand around her neck.

“Mine’s hurts too. Judging by the pain, the scratches on your face, neck, and hands... I’d say it was probably a car crash, which I can’t remember...seems it wasn’t that serious.”

“Think again, dear.” She raises her wrist to his eye level, to reveal a Hospital bracelet. Taking her wrist in his hands, he inspects the information written on the bracelet. Releasing her arm, he raises his, just to discover a matching bracelet on his own wrist.

“This should answer a lot of questions that...I am not able to deduce right now.”

In silence, while he stares at the ocean, she moves and sits in his lap, facing him.

“Irene…” His words sound like a reproach, but she entwins her fingers in his hair. He moans. 

“I like when you use my name.” She says flirty.

“Woman…” This time, it sounds more like a warning.

“I love when you use my title.” She says against his lips and begins to massage his temples. He moans even louder. Resisting, he shakes his head slightly.

“The place is desert, dear. No one to pry on us.” This time, their lips are less than an inch apart and Sherlock fails to resist her. 

 

The sun shines brightly over the couple as the waitress withdraws their empty plates, leaving two cups of tea on the table. 

“Now what? Do we go for a nude swim in the ocean? Mmhm?”

“Why so grumpy? I thought morning sex would lift your spirit” She says smiling mischievously behind her tea. 

“It helped me built up an appetite-”

“Show off.” She scoffs quietly, offended.

“I did enjoy it. But you know that by the amount of-”

“So many moans,” She purrs. “Music for my ears.” Sherlock blushes under her words but continues. 

“What would really improve my mood, would be remembering what happened last night… especially, how the hell we ended up here, in Sussex!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, dear. Our stomachs full, John Watson knows we are alive and The Iceman is probably moving the British military to pick us up... let’s reminisce while we wait.”


	7. The stolen car, the hospital, the road and the beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene and Sherlock reminisce about the events of last night and how they ended up in Sussex.

“How will you distract them?” John had barely finished his question when the truck drove by gypsies appeared on the alley.

“Like this!” Sherlock sank the pedal and the car backed up impacting the gypsies. Before they could recover from the surprise crush, Sherlock moved fast, forward and away. 

He turned right on the first corner, then left, left again and then to the right. Despite his efforts to lose the gypsies, they were following close behind. The chase continued through alleys, streets and red lights.

“Wasn’t there a…. Police car after us?” Asked Irene confused.

Sherlock was about to answer, when the police car in question appeared in front of them, blocking their way. Due to his drunk state, Sherlock reacted slowly and even if he tried to avoid the inevitable collision moving to the side, the crush knocked them both for a few seconds.

The door opened violently and Sherlock came back to his senses, his drunk senses.

“Get down the car, Now!” The man yelled. In his state of confusion, Sherlock looked at him bewildered, a few seconds passed.

“I said, Get. Down. From. Th-”

“You are not a powliceman!” Sherlock interrupted. The man seemed shocked for a brief second, frowning again, he opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock did first. “Staph boring me and move!” Sherlock ended his sentence by blowing a fist into the man’s face, who fainted. 

“Woah!” Irene exclaimed. “You punched a policeman… that’s super manly and a bit of sexy,” she laughed awkwardly.

“I just hit a policeman, not time to get impressed. Now get down tha car and start rwning!”

Irene jumped down, but her drunken state made her stumble, almost falling if not for Sherlock that picked her up. Holding hands, they try to run from the scene but they only managed to stagger they way for three meters when the truck drove by gypsies appeared in front of them.

“What did you do?!” Said the driver, stepping down angrily from the truck.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry ok? It twas just a misunderrstandrsment…” 

All of a sudden, three police cars surrounded them. The policemen stepped down their vehicles, pointing guns at them, ordering to stay still, but the gypsy jumped into the driver’s seat and drove away before the police could stop them. 

Leaning heavily on the wall behind them, Irene raised her arms in surrender. Sherlock had no option but to do the same.

 

“Sobering up a little?” The nurse asked

“Not a chance,” Irene said with a wink.

“Anyway, I don’t think I could handle this situation soberly.”

“However, your both are patched up. I recommend rest and plenty of water, perhaps a full night of sleep. No alcohol, especially absinthe and… with all that done, I will inform the police officer outside that you are ready to be taken to the police station.” He turned around pleased with himself and exited the room, leaving the couple handcuffed to the stray. When the police officers entered the room seven minutes later, the room was empty, the handcuffs on the floor and the window wide open.

 

“How many other laws can we break tonight?”

“I dunno, wanna start a bet?”

“Let’s just… keep running. We can’t allow to be caught again.”

“Well then… Let’s take another kind of ride.” Sherlock looked at her in confusion. Irene pointed at a KFC ahead. Sherlock remained clueless.

“Sober up detective! Two lads and a girl eating fried chicken on their car at this undignified hour… what does that tell you?”

“I… I don’t think is that late, I mean, look around, there are people coming back to their homes from work.”

“Sherlock dear, they are not coming back home, they are _leaving_ home for work! This is silly… Those folks over there are satiating their munchies at KFC, they have a car, let’s ask for a ride before the police find us.”

“Wait, wha- No… like… Hitchhike?” He snorted. “Never gonna happen, Woman.”

 

“So then I told my pal Steve… man, we should take off to the beach for the weekend, take Gabby with us, she is so funny… and here we are, aye? Heading to Sussex!” The car filled with cheers and laughs. “Hey, Steve! Don’t be greedy, allow our guest to hit the blunt. Don’t be shy, we are travel pals now! We are going to have so much fun!”

The couple looked at each other as Steve offered them a thick joint, they nodded in agreement and took it, lit it and puff.

 

“Is it legal to lit a wood fire on the beach?”

“I’m not sure,” Gabby answered, looking into the distance, silent; Lost.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Wondered Steve who was dragging a dry log he had found a few feets away. Lifting it, he dropped it ungracefully on the small wood fire. “We are not bothering… anyone. We are just trying to get some heat while we wait for the sunrise.”

“Wait….the...sun...rise?”

All the attendants gathered around the wood fire shifted their gazes to the east, where softs and shy sun rays were filling the sky. Pink and orange raised to replace the dark blue tones and to be reflected on the ocean, on the waves, and on their eyes.

“That is actually… the sun rising,” Said Sherlock astonished. “How- How many hours had we been awake?” He asked Irene in a whisper.

“Isn't it beautiful?!” Steve yelled solemnly. “Everyone gather around, closer….come on.” Once he was able to wrap everyone with his arms, he continued. “The mighty orb rising in the sky! So powerful and respectful, bathe us with your rays!” Steve and his mates took a deep breath. “Tell me Shezza, how many times have you contemplate a sunrise like this one?”

“I think… I have never…”

“That’s fine, you are too overwhelmed to talk. What about you my lady?”

“I have seen many sunrises before, Steve. But none like this one before.”

“I feel your energy, sister. Let’s all be consumed by this powerful moment.”

 

“You have to admit, that was far too weird.” Says Sherlock dead serious.

“Of course it was weird! But at least one of us had to play along to keep a convincing cover.”

“True. Next! We fell asleep on the beach, this morning Steve wakes us up. Everything is covered from last night then.”

“There is only one thing left to say… to ask, actually.” Sherlock waves a hand politely, inviting her to continue. “The missing kid, the gypsies kidnapping him… How did you solve it?” A broad smile appears on Sherlock’s face.

“It’s been the best case I had in weeks! But I will explain later, Mycroft’s rescue vehicle is here.”


	8. The truth about almost everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang is finally together again, but Sherlock is not in the mood for explanations.

“Oooh dears! Where were you two?” The question is a mixture of concern and reproach. “We were so worried!” Irene begins to reassure her, but Sherlock moves them aside to head for the stairs.

“It’s a long story, Ms Hudson. Perhaps one day I’ll tell you-” Sherlock interrupts himself when he enters his living room. “Who are you? What are you both still doing here? Everyone out!” He shouts. Both women rush upstairs.

“Hey mate! Good to see you are fine and in one piece! We,” John gestures at Mary and himself, ”are fine too. Thanks.”

“We talked on the phone! Now, who is this?!” Sherlock points, enraged, at a woman in the room.

“This is Anna,” John explains. “She is Tom’s mother,” Sherlock answers with a confused expression. “Tom, the boy we rescued last night…?”

“Oh, yes, yes. That… well, nice to meet you.” He says shaking her hand. “I hope my friend delivered your son on a good state. Now if you excuse me, I have a dinner in a few hours.” The woman, Anna, tries to speak but Sherlock is already on the hallway, walking to his room.

“Sherlock!” John warns him. “She wants an explanation!” Full of rage, Sherlock turns back and strides to the living room.

“Fine! Listen carefully, I’m about to say some statements and you are going to nod every time I stand correct. You may want to sit for this. Are you ready?” Anna nods from the couch she settled in. “Good, first! Tom is not your son, biologically saying, Am I right?”

Everyone on the room gasps at the statement and looks at Anna. She is pale, astonished, but nods in silence.

“That was a good start,” Sherlock sighs in relief. “Tom is the son of a close relative, a brother of yours I dare say; who had an affair with a gypsy, a married woman. She got pregnant and ended the affair, never telling your brother she was pregnant with his child. She kept the secret until the baby was born and the husband noticed the kid wasn’t his own. Consumed by rage, he murdered the mother and began a crusade to avenge his honor. Your brother, aware of the murder of his former lover, flee to avoid a certain death without any knowledge of a son. Neither that he had a killer at his heels. But, before the gypsy set for his revenge crusade, he got rid of all that reminded him of the betrayal, abandoning the baby, your nephew, on your doorstep. As your brother didn’t want to be found, he broke all contact with family and friends, so you were unable to communicate the existence of his son.”

The last word Sherlock said still resonates in the room, as nobody says a word or even breaths. All eyes shifts from Sherlock to Anna, who is shocked by the detective’s words.

“Do I,” he begins, “stand correct?” He is calm now. After a few seconds, Anna nods fervently and begins to cry.

“Nobody knows of this! Please don’t tell the police! They might take my Tom away! I have raised him since he was a baby, he is my son now, please!” Her pleads turns into sobs so Mary walks next to her to offer support and tissues.

“That’s why you didn’t go to the police when he was abducted”

“B-...b-... but how- did you-” Anna manage to articulate between her sobs.

“After these ladies convinced me of taking this case, I make some research and learned about a scandal between rival bands of gypsies years ago, the same age the boy of the wanted poster has. Also the murder of a gypsy woman on a passional crime whose killer was never found, neither their newborn baby. The boy had been abducted near a place well transited by gypsies. In the poster, you stated clearly that you didn’t want to involve the police. I just joined some loose ends.”

“I thought you were drunk last night.” John scoffs.

“I was drunk, not brainless!” He scoffs back. “Still…” He lowers his head, fixing his gaze on the floor. “I still don’t know why the gypsies tried to kidnap him. I’m missing pieces of the puzzle yet…” Suddenly, Sherlock snaps out of his trance. “Fine! There’s your explanation, now if you excuse me!” He storms off to his room. Anna tries to thanks him again but only receives a departure hand gesture from Sherlock before he closes his bedroom door.

 

When Irene enters the room, Sherlock lies on his bed, eyes closed and only wearing his pants. She undresses too and sits next to him, laying a tender hand on his chest.

“What was all that about? Why so mad?”

“My head hurts, my stomach twists, I’m tired and highly dehydrated.”

“Is it because of the dinner with your parents?”

“Of course is because of the dinner!” He curls away, showing his back to her. Still tender, she caresses his arm and places a soft kiss on his shoulder.

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” His eyes shot open and he rolls to face her instantly.

“I _do_ want to. Don't _you_ want to?”

“I _do_ want too!”

“Then why propose to cancel? Did you sabotage this?”

“Come on! You are the one sabotaging the meeting.”

“I am not!”

“You just complained!”

“Yes, I complained because now my brother and parents will think I’m regretting this meeting for moving it from brunch to dinner. They are probably waiting for a last minute excuse for not showing and that bothers me. I do want this dinner!” He looks at her with determination on his eyes, and she returns a soft glare at him. “I mean, is not like I actually want to meet my parents,” He shifts in the bed for a more comfortable position, spreading his arm to circle her waist and dragging her near him. Irene complies and adjusts her position so now Sherlock lies on his back, Irene leans across his chest and he can rest his arm on her waist. “I don’t really enjoy dinner with my parents. But I understand that is a standard procedure that after a certain period of time when two people are in a relationship, they are meant to meet each other’s parents or closest family. Normally, I wouldn’t care for such trivialities, but as I care about this relationship we have, I will proceed with the stated rituals people has, so you… to show you that I care and I’m really into it and stuff… sort of...this matters like-”

The speech is interrupted by her soft lips caught his and then moving in motion to deepen the kiss.

“We earned a nap.” Says Irene lying next to him. “Then we get a shower…”

“And then into the lion’s den.”

“With you,” she says entwining their fingers. “I’d go anywhere.”


	9. Case Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where our story ends, but... aren't all ends, just beginnings?

 

“Do I really have to wear a tie?” He complains as Irene fixes the tie knot.  
“The restaurant demands a dressing etiquette. A restaurant you chose, by the way, so stop complaining.” Sherlock is about to retort, but Irene plants a kiss on his mouth before he does. “Zip!” She turns her back to him and he zips up the dress.

 

At the door, Ms Hudson gives her best wishes to the couple and opens the door for them. The cab is waiting for them outside. The ride is calm, the conversation fiddling and the mood relaxed. The atmosphere is interrupted by red and blue lights behind the cab, the driver looks by the rear-view mirror but Sherlock twits his head.

“That’s not a policeman,” he whispers at Irene. “Are those heels fit to run?” Irene blinks at him in response as the driver begins to slow down the cab.

“Don’t stop here,” Sherlock demands, but the driver insists he does not want any problems.”You won’t have them. Stops a little bit further, in the next corner.” 

The drivers comply, on the next corner he stops the car. The police car stops right behind and a policeman steps down. He walks up to the driver’s window, bends down to look inside but the back seat is empty. 

“Where!” He yells in shock. Looks outside the cab when two figures run inside an alley.

“How do you know he is not a policeman?” Irene asks breathlessly as they run.

“Last night, a policeman tried to get me off the truck.” He is panting. “His uniform was big, not his. The gun he had- differs from the official one- local police use. This is- The same man.” Irene spats a curse, looking back just to see the said man following them, getting close. Turning to the right, the couple finds a brick wall, a dead end. 

“I admit, I don’t know very well, this part of town…” Irene blows in mockery.

Steps echoes behind them, when they turn around, the dark figure of the fake policeman is slowly walking towards them. Reaching for the back of his pants, the man draws a gun whose canion shines under the moonlight. Sherlock and Irene step back until they back hit the wall behind them. They are sweating and breathing heavily, never looking at each other, they hold hands tight. A gunshot is fired and a body falls to the ground.

  
  


“What is going on, Mike? Would you tell us already?” Ms Holmes asks his elder son just as he ended a phone call.

“I’m trying to figure it out, dear mother…” He answers never taking his eyes off his phone.

“Why would Sherlock reschedule brunch to dinner just to delay it again? And then just…. Jilt us on dinner…. Honestly, I do not understand…”

“Sherlock said he wanted to introduce us to his girlfriend. He said he would, so he will. Probably, he just got tangled on a case or something.” Mr Holmes smiles at his wife reassuring her. 

“Well then…” Ms Holmes approaches the window and stares the lonely street outside. It’s late at night, no soul wanders the street, no cars either, not even a sound can be heard. Inside the flat, Mycroft speaks on his phone, Mr Holmes browses through the few books on the shelf, all new. 

The silence outside the flat is abruptly interrupted by a joyful laughter. Ms Holmes turns her gaze to the source of said sound. Three people are walking down the street, a tall man and, by their size and shape, two women. The man is carrying two bags that hands to the smallest and slowest of the females. As they come closer to the flat, Ms Holmes can hear faintly, their conversation.

“We are lucky the street is empty. How scandalous is this behavior, young man!”

“Can’t blame me, Ms Hudson. I just closed one of the greatest case I had in months!” Sherlock laughs loudly again. With a swift move, he grabs Irene by the waist and began to waltz down the street, humming and whistling a tune. Irene keeps the peace lead by Sherlock and smiles broadly while they dance.

"Seize the moment, Ms Hudson. We do not get many chances to see him this joyful "

"I have been quite joyful since you two have been dating regularly"

"No one asked you, Ms Hudson." Sherlock clarifies, never stopping the dance. He makes their way towards the flat, always dancing.

“I like that song.” She whispers.

“It’s Firenzi all over again.”

“Except this time no one is trying to kill us…” Sherlock chuckles and they reach the entrance. He makes her spin and Irene falls dramatically into his embrace. Sherlock caught her in his arms and leaning closer, they kiss slow, tender, passionate.

“Oh please! Cut it off you both!” Mycroft complains from the door’s lintel. Sherlock tightens his embrace making Irene to wraps her arms around him in a more intimate way. Their bodies are touching, melting into each other. She raises her hand to caress his face and slips it to his chest to move him away, but Sherlock resists and bends over her, overdramatizing the situation. Irene giggles into the kiss and slowly, Sherlock finally releases her. He stands proud next to her offering his arm. She accepts it, they nod to each other and make their way past Mycroft and up the stairs.

 

Releasing a heavy sigh, Sherlock couldn’t hide his distress anymore. He looked at Irene, at how she managed to approach his mother’s uncomfortable questions on an impeccable diplomatic way. It made him smile to himself. He stood and served an equal portion of dessert to each of the assistants. The conversation was lead mostly by his mother, who asked, for the fourth time on that evening, if they had plans for a marriage and kids. Sherlock took a deep breath and closed his eyes, abstracting himself from the group. His peace was interrupted by Mycroft desperate plead.

“Finally! Why did it take you so long?”

When Sherlock opened his eyes, his parents were sprawled on the table, fast asleep. Irene, who hadn’t touched her dessert moved it aside, without saying a word about what had just happened. Mycroft, on the other hand, watched in panic her actions, he went pale and rebuked his young brother’s actions.

“You put it in the dessert?!”

“Of course I did,” he mocked. “You didn’t hesitate on eating it. Although, I used a small dose on you, adds a dramatic effect. If I were you, I’d had a seat.” Smiling pleasantly and naive, Sherlock watched his brother walking awkwardly towards the couch, sitting and falling asleep almost instantly. 

“You drugged your parents, again?”

“And my brother too, again.”

“Unbelievable…” Said John in disbelief with a smirk.

“Dinner became unbearable after twenty minutes.”

“So, you helped him on this?”

“Of course I did, we planned it while we ordered the dinner as take over. I had to entangle into chit-chat to distract them as Sherlock pour the narcotics on the dessert.”

“That’s mah girl!” Mary cheers her, sharing a high-five. 

“Mary! Don’t encourage them! They are sociopaths.”

“Come on, John. You are overreacting.”

“See, John? You should listen to Mary.”

“But she is a- You are all- Am I the only sane person here?”

“There are high possibilities that Rosie had inherited some traits from her mother so, as you stated before, are probably the only boring person on this house.” 

“Thanks mate.” Says John giving up.

“Changing the subject, what happened with the gypsies? You were going to tell us what happened in the alley.”

“Right, yes! Yesterday night, after we parted ways, we crushed against… I can’t remember how the car crash happened. The thing is, a policeman approached at me, his clothes were too big for him, his gun was not the same the police force carries and he didn’t have his badge on a visible place. The guy was fake, I punched him, tried to run away but we were caught anyway. It was this man the one following the cab we took from Baker street to the restaurant.”

“So… what happened in the alley?” Mary asks expectantly.

“He cornered us at the end of the alley,” Irene continues. “He pointed us with a gun but before he could say or do anything, a bullet from behind blew his head.”

“Turns out there were two factions of gypsies. When Tom’s mother was killed by his husband, the gypsies cast him away. But he took Tom and abandoned at Anna’s doorstep to figure a plan about that baby later. He came back recently, no one knows yet if he found Anna’s brother but he came with the idea of taking revenge on Tom.”

“When the gypsies found out, they caught Tom as an attempt to protect the boy from this man. They knew Anna couldn’t go to the police for help.”

“That night, they called the police, they knew the traitor was disguising as a policeman and lure him into that parking lot to kill him before he could hurt Tom. But… we meddled… We almost ruin their plan. Rescuing Tom but leaving him unguarded. That night, the gypsies chased the traitor, but he managed to escape.”

“They placed a vigilant outside the flat. When we left on the cab, the fake policeman was also spying on us and followed the cab. The gypsies followed him, after the cab and then into the alley.”

“And shot him dead before he could kill us for ruining his plans. All the explanation took a while, we were late for dinner, so I called Mycroft to take my parents home and stopped at Angelo’s for takes over.”

“What will happen with Tom now?”

“He is safe now, they’ll leave him and his mother alone.”

A long silence falls upon them, but Sherlock breaks announcing they depart, for they have a plane to catch. Curios, John asks right away about the matter.

“I meet Sherlock’s parents. It’s his turn to meet my family now.”

“Sherlock is meeting your parents now?” John asks with a mocking laugh.

“Not my parents, they are… complicated. We’re joining my brother, he lives in Finland.”

“You have a brot- a brother? Really?”

“Yes! And we are about to lose the plane.” Sherlock interrupted angrily. “So, thanks for all and goodbye. I’ll let you know when I’m back”


End file.
